


i can't (and it's killing me)

by asexuelf



Category: Sally Face (Video Games)
Genre: Bi Sal Fisher, Canon GNC Character, Canon Gay Character, Cute, Disabled Character, Displays of affection, Established Relationship, Flowers, Fluff, GNC Sal Fisher, Gay Male Character, Gay Travis Phelps, Gender Non-Conforming Sal Fisher, Kissing, M/M, Permanent Injury, Queer Character, Queer Themes, gender-nonconforming character, religious trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-24 12:32:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18571582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asexuelf/pseuds/asexuelf
Summary: Travis can't kiss Sal, so he finds other ways to show his affection.





	i can't (and it's killing me)

**Author's Note:**

> tiny warning for (healing!) internalized homophobia and fear of outward homophobia/homophobic violence. super mild, because i wanna keep this fluffy, but still there because it's travis and also sally face is set in the 90s (EDIT: also warning for implied self harm! missed that when i posted it, sorry about that!)
> 
> also warning for sal being a knock out cutie and travis being a disaster (i wrote him from my own personal experiences as a gay idiot for added realism akdjskdj)
> 
> hope ya'll enjoy!

It stings at first - not being able to kiss him.

Travis understands, but just understanding something doesn’t always make it easy. Sal said it wasn’t that he didn’t _want_ to kiss Travis, just that there isn’t really enough lip left on his face to kiss with. And anyways, Sal’s face often hurts, especially during these rainy Spring days. Kissing wouldn’t be exactly _pleasant_ with the injuries he’s had, even if kissing were possible, he imagines.

Travis understands.

Still, he finds himself bringing his fingers to his own mouth late at night, staring at the ceiling, his mind sleepless and full of Sal.

It doesn’t seem fair. It’s unfair of him to think that - not fair to him, but especially not fair to Sal, but he still can’t stop feeling how he feels. He’s spent so much time working his way to this point, trying to float just above the sea of self-loathing his father fostered in him, just to gain the courage to allow himself a want like this - and now it’s something he’ll never have. At least, not with Sal. And he really, _really_ wants it with Sal. Which isn’t fair of Travis at all. He’s sure Sal wants it just as much.

Cold moonlight streams through the window, making his white sheets glow. He rolls to his side and shoves his nose against his pillow. He imagines it’s Sal’s chest instead.

 _It’s fine._ He tells himself. _It’s just a kiss._

But, late at night, feeling the oppressive presence of Father Phelps in the other room, it doesn’t seem that way.

*

It’s easier when they’re together. Their stolen, secret touches mean the world to Travis, whether on the bus, at lunch, between classes, holding hands or pressing shoulders. Nearly every smile that sneaks onto his face is thanks to Sal. The soft touch of his hand, warm and dry in his own… This is a blessing. No matter what his father says during Sunday service, this… this is as close to God as Travis has ever felt. The weight of Sal’s head on his chest when they hug is some quiet divinity.

He almost feels silly, sometimes, hurting so much over a kiss. All he has - Sal, especially - is a gift that he ought to be grateful for. But then he feels himself leaning closer, as if drawn by some hidden magnetic pull, lips parted and eyes locked on Sal’s blue one, and it aches in his chest all over again.

Sal presses their shoulders together, the sleeve of his ratty t-shirt bunching up against Travis’, revealing the scars on Sal’s upper arm. They’re old, but seeing them makes Travis worry. “What’s wrong? You’ve got a look on your face…”

Anxiously, Travis shakes his head. Better not to upset Sal. They’ve been having such a pleasant lunch together, sat outside while the weather is still nice… Travis doesn’t want to ruin it. Not yet. “Just thinking. It doesn’t matter.”

For a moment, Sal is quiet, before he brings his other hand to softly push hair out of Travis’ face where the wind had mussed it. “You matter. I know that’s not what you said, but whatever it is, _you_ matter.”

Sally has always been too nice, has always known him just a little too well. When Travis fights the magnetic pull again, it aches just a little more because of it.

Kissing is important. A marriage ceremony _ends_ in a kiss; two people showing their devotion to each other, to a crowd, in a timeless gesture. But, even the most casual of kisses show love, show care, show desire, show _gratitude_. And if Sal doesn't deserve gratitude for his patience, for his kindness, then who does?

Travis takes a chip out of his bag and puts it in Sal's. It's not a kiss, not even close, but it's something.

As Sal thanks him, Travis just nods. He's already deep in thought.

*

It was Neil’s idea.

Neil has been a treasure trove of helpful information - and a great resource for advice, to boot. When he can’t quite talk about something with Sal, Travis pulls all his courage together and talks to Neil.

Neil is easier to talk to than any of Sal’s other friends. Maybe it’s because he’s older (and wiser in topics relating to boyfriends and boyfriendhood) or maybe it’s just because he’s _so damn chipper_ all the time. He always smiles, always speaks in sweet, patient tones or bright, clear laughter… He’s kind of like Sal that way; strange optimistic and unerringly nice. Maybe Travis just has a type.

He shakes his head at that thought. It’s still strange to think of his… _preferences_ outside of Sal. He’s not ashamed like he used to be, not really, but the fear that knots his gut is a bit much to deal with today. Taking a deep breath, he adjusts the flowers in his hands to make them easier to hold.

If his father asks, he’ll say they were for Ms. Johnson… It’s a polite, Christian thing to do to bring a bouquet of pretty blue flowers to a lady whose home he frequents. Right?

Hopefully Sal will like them just as much.

*

When Sal meets Travis at the front of Addison Apartments, he’s wearing a short-sleeve button up tucked into a long dark skirt and boots with the laces undone. The boots add a couple inches to his height (“It makes hugging easier,” Sal had said. “And we can hug longer, too.”), keeping the skirt from touching the ground. His hair is tied up, as usual, in pigtails. Even from a distance, it looks soft.

Travis’ heart skips two beats, at least. His mouth grows a bit dry and he wonders, suddenly, how he ended up with someone as perfect as Sal Fisher.

When Sal gives an awkward wave, Travis realizes he’s stopped walking. He jogs over to his- his boyfriend ( _ba-bump, ba-bump_ ) in nervous, bouncing steps, feeling shy about the flowers and his own lackluster outfit.

Even the roots of his hair are showing again, the blond slowly making way to his natural dark brown. Sal looks so pretty and here Travis is, dumpy as always, holding a bouquet of flowers so tightly he’s surprised they haven’t wilted cartoonishly from the pressure. Sal must be a gift from God. It's the only way this makes sense.

“H… Hey, Sally Face.” He clears his throat. Then clears it again. “I, uh. Got you some- They’re nothing, but I thought maybe-”

Sal’s shoulders slacken in surprise. “These are for me?”

The wonder in his voice is loud, even if his words are quiet. Travis blinks. “Who else? I mean- I just wanted to give you something.” His face grows suddenly very hot. “You- look very pretty today.”

Wordlessly, Sal looks at the flowers, then back up at Travis, before reaching his arms out questioningly. With a nod, Travis hands them over.

“For you.” He says, like Sal doesn’t already know that. Like he didn’t just ask.

“For me…” The feeling in Sal’s voice is palpable. With a start, Travis realizes Sal may very well be holding back tears. “Thank you. I’ve… never gotten flowers. Not outside of a hospital visit.”

Shit, is he crying because of bad memories? Chest suddenly achey, Travis takes a deep breath and, like an idiot, jokes, “Hopefully you’ll just get them from me then. I mean-”

But it makes Sal laugh. “Yeah, I hope so, too.” And then he reaches forward and gently tugs at the sleeve of Travis’ old long-sleeve shirt. “Come inside. Dad’s at work right now, but he said you can stay the night as long as we don’t get too crazy.”

Travis snorts, but follows him in. He wasn't expecting to stay over, but just the thought of not going home tonight makes him relax more than he has in days. “I’ll do my best, but things are always crazy with you.”

“Says the guy that spontaneously bought me flowers.” Sal shakes his head, making his blue pigtails bounce. It brings forward the memory of Sal headbanging to his loud music Travis kind of hates and kind of loves and his heart beats a little bit faster. “You’re always surprising me, Travis. I like that about you.”

Travis reminds himself to thank Neil next time he sees him.

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are a writer's best friends - tell me what you think! 😄 i'm hoping to write a few more bits of travis doing sweet things for sal, so lmk if that interests you!


End file.
